


Written Very Long Ago

by Tabithian



Series: Light the Path [35]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 02:04:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5725642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time it happened was shortly into Tim's run as Robin. </p><p>Tim flustered as anything while Dick laughed and told him things like that happened sometimes in their line of work and he'd get used to it eventually. (Maybe he just meant bizarre situations as a whole, not. You know, getting alien married, but you never know with Dick.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Written Very Long Ago

**Author's Note:**

> Yozoraarashi asked for DickTim getting alien/accidentally marrried until Dick catches a clue, so. *hands*

The first time it happened was shortly into Tim's run as Robin. 

Tim flustered as anything while Dick laughed and told him things like that happened sometimes in their line of work and he'd get used to it eventually. (Maybe he just meant bizarre situations as a whole, not. You know, getting alien married, but you never know with Dick.)

The problem was that it _kept happening_.

Barbara started keeping a running tally, eventually taking bets on when it would happen again, with side bets as to the how. Roy took up a collection for rings, and at least one team member from their respective teams carried a pair on them at all times.

After a while Bruce insisted on a special compartment on Tim's utility belt with a look of thinly veiled amusement as Tim just stared at him, mind a buzzing blank because _why?_ and _et tu, Bruce?_ and _I think this is my super villain origin_.

Tim created a file with the kind of encryption only desperation and a deep, abiding need for it to stay out of the hands of the horrible people in his life can inspire. 

It's a list of pros and cons he adds to whenever something occurs to him regarding this utterly bizarre aspect of his life. 

Things like the fact Tim's poker face actually got better with each new marriage ceremony they were forced into because what choice did he have?

(That there a number of incomprehensible keyboard mashing and repeated lines of _why_ in there should be a given, because _Tim's life_.)

********

“Kon, no,” Tim says. “No, no, _no_.”

Kon gives Tim this look.

Equal parts pity and horrible best friend.

Large smattering of budding super villain because the last thing Tim remembers is going to sleep in his nice, cozy bed.

He woke up in a cell somewhere with Kon leaning over him.

Not that that's a new experience given Tim's time with Young Justice and the Teen Titans, just.

Usually, Kon's not the one who put Tim there.

Or, okay. 

That's not really a new experience either, given _Kon_ , but - 

“Look, Tim,” Kon says, and the worst part is that he sounds completely reasonable. “Things have reached unbelievable levels of ridiculous, okay? This is for the best.”

Tim's heard things along the same lines before, usually from the villain of the week.

“Shut it, dork,” Kon says, patting Tim's head fondly as he goes to oversee stage two of his evil plot. “You'll thank me when this is over.”

…Tim's heard that before too.

“You'll never get away with this!” Tim calls after him, because it's not like he doesn't know his cue when he hears it. 

Also, he means every word. 

So much, Kon. 

So. 

Much.

********

As far as abductions go, this isn't so bad.

Tim made a half-hearted attempt to escape in the beginning, but whoever helped Kon set this up is pretty versed in how to hold a Bat, and really.

Tim wants to know who else in involved before he really gets started planning his revenge.

That, and Kon left behind a 3DS and a copy of the newest Pokemon game to keep Tim entertained. There's a niece selection of snacks and drinks. (No WiFi, though, so that's a tick in the Highly Unsatisfactory column of Tim's abductee survey right there, Kon.)

********

A few hours later Tim realizes he can hear voices approaching the room his cell is in.

He watches with a detached sort of amusement as Roy and Jason walk in dragging Dick between them. 

All three of them look a little bruised and battered, but Dick's the one being toted around, and Roy and Jason are looking insufferably pleased with themselves.

“I just want the both of you to know I'm going to kill you,” Dick says, this kind of calm and measured that doesn't bode well for their continued survival.

Jason, because he's an ass, reaches out to pinch Dick's cheek. “So precious, Dickie.”

Roy grins as Dick gives Jason a flat look, and opens the door to Tim's cell.

“Hey, Tim.”

Tim waves a hand in greeting. 

Offers up a little, “Hey, Roy,” as Jason shoves Dick into the cell with Tim.

Jason smirks and makes finger guns at Tim complete with little clicky noises because, again, _ass_.

Dick stumbles for a second, and then turns around to stare at Tim.

Tim smiles, feeling it go crooked on him along the way, and says, “Hey, Dick.”

Dick keeps staring, long enough for Roy and Jason to slip out of the room leaving them alone.

“Are you - “

Dick stops, baffled look on his face as his eyes go to the 3DS in Tim's hands, cheerful music coming from its speakers.

“Are you playing a video game?”

Like Dick's not sure if he's hallucinating or has possibly crossed over into another dimension where absolutely nothing makes sense. 

“The new Pokemon game,” Tim says, turning the 3DS around to show Dick the screen. “I just got my second badge.”

More staring on Dick's part.

“That's.”

“I mean,” Tim says. “I'd be further long, but I wanted to level my team up a little bit before I tackled this gym. I don't have a water type yet.”

“I.”

Tim waits, watches Dick turn a suspicious look on the door Roy and Jason left through, then back on Tim before he sighs.

“Yeah?” Dick says, moving to sit next to Tim, bemused little smile on his face as he bumps his shoulder against Tim's. “Nothing biting?”

Tim rolls his eyes, jabbing an elbow into Dick's side – gently though, because _Jason_.

“Ow,” Dick complains, rubbing his side as he eyes Tim sidelong. “You've been here for a while, huh.”

Tim shrugs, focusing on the 3DS to keep from giving anything away.

Dick's not an idiot, of course he's going to figure out what's going on here, Tim's just.

Prolonging the inevitable.

Or you know, something like that, that sounds a little less depressing.

Besides, Kon and the others are really getting into this, so there's bound to be a villainous monologue at some point.

********

“ _Psst_!”

Tim ignores that.

“Hey, Tim, hey,” Dick hisses, like he's not sitting right across from Tim, toes of their shoes touching, and therefore doesn't need to whisper to be heard. “ _Psst!_ ”

Tim ignores that too, and he'd happily go right on ignoring Dick, except - 

“Dick!”

Except Dick snatches the 3DS out of Tim's hands and holds it over his head.

“I tried to get your attention,” Dick says, oh so reasonably, “but you were ignoring me.”

Tim scowls at Dick, but Dick's pouting.

Or, no. 

He's giving Tim a reproachful look because apparently he never pouts, ever.

Still.

That so-called “reproachful” look of his bears an uncanny resemblance to what could conceivably be described as a pout.

“You haven't even been here for an hour, yet,” Tim says, eyeing the 3DS and giving serious thought to just tackling Dick for it.

Not the best idea, given the reason they're here, but.

“Yeah,” Dick says. “About that.”

Tim.

He's not stupid enough to freeze at the slow drawl, or the way Dick's watching him, so, so careful.

Just.

Okay, no. 

He does.

He so does.

He freezes up, inching away from Dick when Dick leans closer to him, this. 

This _look_ on his face.

Because.

There hasn't been a villainous monologue, no.

Just.

The lights dimming in slow increments and Wally setting up scented candles outside their cell and lighting them before running off.

Soft music being piped in through hidden speakers.

Bart zipping in to measure their ring fingers like there's been any significant change since the last time Tim and Dick were in this kind of situation.

Admittedly, that last was probably the tip-off, but who can say, really.

“Dick?”

“You know,” Dick says, closing the lid of the 3DS and setting to one side. “This is kind of weird.”

Really.

“I mean,” Dick says, and there's a thoughtful quality to his voice now. “You know what day it is, right?”

Thursday?

The corner of Dick's mouth quirks up. 

“That too,” he agrees, quiet, _fond_. “But that's not what I was talking about.”

Tim clears his throat, because this is. 

Wow, not really great?

“You ever get used to it?” Dick asks, eyes on Tim's, searching for what, Tim can't even begin to guess.

“To what?”

Dick _looks_ at him, and Tim snorts because yeah, that's not going to work.

“What do you think?”

Along with Tim's pros and cons list, there's a file full of dates and times. Questions marks and incomprehensible keyboard mashing born out of and utter confusion and frustration because honestly.

How many times can two people get married in the bizarre kinds of situations they tend to find themselves in without it being some kind of karmic payback or a cosmic joke?

A lot, is the answer, apparently.

Pages and pages and pages worth. 

Single spaced, size twelve font in Times New Roman.

“Hey. Hey, Timmy,” Dick says, warm, amused.

Tim gives himself a little shake and focuses back on Dick's face to see him smiling at him.

“It's our anniversary, you know.” Dick makes a face, because technically they have a lot of those. “The first time we got married, I mean.”

Alien married, like the next two times after that, and a several more after that and on and on to the point Tim just gave up. Renamed the files and redid his list to match because why not. (Majority something, something, something.)

“ _Dick._ “

This isn't.

It's not fair, because Tim, okay.

He's spent years with his stupid files and his stupid list and this stupid feeling in his chest when he looks at Dick. Working and working and working on shoving it down deep, locking it behind that poker face he's gotten so good at _because_.

“Tim.”

Because Dick doesn't see, and that's fine, it's great.

Dick is Dick, and everyone loves him and that's normal, natural.

And Tim is just. _Tim_ , and that's fine too, it's great. 

(Normal, natural.)

“You ever wonder what happened to those rings?” Dick asks, and Tim.

He kind of figured they were gone, lost in the lava flow of the volcano they were being sacrificed to at the time. (Thinking back on it, that whole situation set the precedent for Tim's vigilante career.)

Which, fine.

They were made out of some kind of metal that gave Tim a rash that lasted for weeks afterwards. Red, itchy skin that turned into these - 

Well, it wasn't really fun.

“No,” Tim says, and he doesn't.

Didn't. 

Whatever.

Because they got a new set every time they were married on some alien planet or wherever they'd ended up where people were weirdly insistent on a ceremony. Handed a few over to Roy to have them remade when they were just too beaten down to protest or care anymore.

It wasn't the rings, or the circumstances. It was looking at Dick and honing his poker face until it was good enough. (Only apparently not so much.)

“Yeah, no, I guess not,” Dick says, little laugh thrown in there. “I remember that rash they gave you.”

That's.

“Nice.”

Dick grins, nudges Tim's foot with his own. “I know, right? All red and itchy, and oh, man, those blisters. Yikes.”

Tim.

“Seriously?”

Because there was that time - 

“Okay, no, I remember you swore you'd never mention that again,” Dick says, and he's just.

He's grinning at Tim, and Tim.

“Yeah, well.” Tim shrugs, looking away. “You said you wouldn't mention the rash.”

He didn't so much say it as imply heavily with a meaningful look and fist bump of solidarity, but maybe Tim should have gotten it in writing. 

Something.

“Hey.”

Dick nudges Tim's foot again, and then again until Tim looks up at him, tired, reluctant.

“I'm kind of slow on the uptake sometimes, you know that, right?” Dick asks, another little nudge. “I mean, look at who trained me when it comes to detective work.”

That's. 

Wow, not really fair to Bruce, and _yet_.

“Oh, come on, Tim. That's a little funny, right?”

Depending on your definition of the word, sure.

“Thing is,” Dick continues. “I get there in the end, you know?”

There's something in Dick's eyes, hopeful, fragile, and Tim.

“ _Dick_.”

“And, sure,” Dick says, like he hears the things Tim isn't saying, can't, “maybe we shouldn't start off with marriage right off the bat, because who does that?”

This is so - 

It's so _Dick_ , and Tim's never been good at resisting him when he's like this.

“You remember why we're here, right?” Tim asks, gesturing around them, feeling his mouth curving into a slow smile, this flutter in his chest that might be what ruins him in the end, but. “I mean.”

Half of Kon's DNA is Kryptonian, and Tim's known him long enough to know how his mind works. 

Plus, Kon knows about Tim's files, even if he's never laid eyes on them. (Tim. Babbles, sometimes, when he's not fully in control of his facilities, and Kon's been with him on more than a few of those occasions.)

Dick laughs, reaching out to brush hair out of Tim's eyes.

“So we do things a little differently than most people, I'm good with it if you are.”

That's.

“We're playing into their hands,” Tim says, and it's true enough, even if he can't muster the energy to care all that much.

Dick smiles, little bit of teeth showing. “I'm sure we can find a way to pay them back for this when we get out of here.”

Strangely enough, so is Tim.


End file.
